A Bowl of Stupid

So, it’s been a whole year since I moved to Bali. Looking back, I can still (barely) remember my reasoning for doing so:

At the time, I was basing myself out of Bangkok, but throughout the extensive (Northern Hemisphere) summer, I was only staying there 2-3 weeks every other month and spending most of my other time jockeying around the Indonesian archipelago, looking for surf.

It was costing my heaps of money in terms of running back and forth to Bangkok for visa runs, to pick up clothes, pay bills, and other random crap. Plus, at the time, there were no inexpensive direct flights from Bangkok to Bali (which Air Asia now has), and I was spending additional moneys heading through Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta, and elsewhere — most of the time heading to, or through, Bali for surf supplies before heading to another destination.

So, although I had never been a fan of Southern Bali (the over-commercialized center of the Indonesian tourist/surf scene), I decided to give it a go in the hopes the island would grow on me — I’d practice my Indonesian, be able to surf on a more regular basis, and save some much needed money.

One year later and, despite all I’ve learned in terms of Indonesian culture, the international surf scene, and my own surfing abilities … I am, quite possibly, less of a fan of Bali than I was before I moved here last year.

The main reason for that is (apparently) indicated in the Taylor Steele movie I referenced in my last post — now that I’ve been here and I’ve been able to get a feel for some areas still untouched by tourism, it puts into sharp contrast the tourist nightmare that exists everywhere else on the island. And the greed, crowds, and incongruous stress that has become indicative of life here.

It used to be a lovely island, a tropical paradise. But no longer. That era is long gone.

It’s getting far too tiring to live here. The positives no longer outweigh the negatives. And it’s time for me to go.

I usually don’t post movie trailers here at all, let alone ones featuring story lines mimicking my own personal tale so closely. However, ‘The Drifter’ is different.

Primarily because I’m a big fan of the film’s star, Rob Machado (one of the preeminent ‘soul surfers’ of my generation, and whom I’ve actually met several times a decade ago while I was living in San Diego, and again later here in Indonesia), and its director, Taylor Steele (one of the more prominent, and talented, directors of the modern surf film).

Again, the apparent crux of the film echoes my own journey so closely that it’s eerie (except for the fact that I’m not a professional surfer, not world famous, not sponsored by Hurley, and in no way, shape, or form nearly as talented as is Machado).

‘The Drifter’ has been shown around Bali for the past couple months in the pro and semi-pro surfing circles, and it is being released in earnest later this Fall, 2009. Steele is outstanding in his ability to weave into a typical surf movie the other, and the majority, of what actually takes place on a surf trip — 95% of which takes place OUTSIDE the water.

It’s a fantastic film. It’s a beautiful representation of the Indonesia that still exists in ever-dwindling portions of the country. And, most importantly, it’s a brilliant showcase for one of the best surfers in the world today. Take a look, and go see it when it opens in wide release.

As I mentioned in my last post, one of the reasons I’ve been kept fairly busy lately is because I’ve had friends visiting me here in Bali for the past few weeks. Included in those visits was one of my best friends from Miami and his parents. And while he already has a couple brothers, I know him well enough that he feels like a brother to me. We have different perspectives on life, and he’s always been good at getting me to see things from other perspectives.

His recent visit was nothing new.

By now, it’s no secret that I have what, on my better days would be considered a ‘distaste’ for southern Bali’s ever-increasing tourist industry. On my worse days, it would be better defined as ‘utter contempt’.

The biggest issue is that Bali has absolutely no infrastructure. It’s streets, plumbing, landfills, and power plants were never built to accommodate anything more than the villages that occupied the island 25-30 years ago. This means frequent power failures, sewage in the ocean, traffic jams, and an overall decrease in the quality of life.

Personally, I call Kuta, Bali (the main surf tourist center) ‘the ghetto’. I try to avoid even going down there unless I need surf supplies simply because, although it’s only about 5-8 km away from my home, it takes about 30-40 minutes to get there. And once there, you must deal with the constant assault by tour operators, massage ‘therapists’, and shop keepers — all vying for your money, one way or another.

It is, in a word, a mess.

As the years pass, this mess has expanded ever further beyond the borders of Kuta, Bali — and it now reaches through Legion, Seminyak, Canggu, and up through Ubud into the southern hills. And since there is no such thing as ‘city planning’ or ‘civil engineering’ in Indonesia — the result is one vast, unregulated, illogical mess of random shops, alleys, roads, and hotels.

As noted previously, this has always been a source of irritation for me, for a variety of reasons.

First and foremost is because, if you look closely, you can still see the remnants of Bali’s original beauty. There are still random temples and rice patties and roaming cows in the midst of new hotels and villas and shops and parking lots. This place really must have been an absolute paradise once upon a time — as recently as 20 years ago, from what I’ve been told.

The second reason is more pragmatic — there reaches a breaking point for unmitigated and unregulated expansion. Sure, you can build dozens of 2500 person hotels and villas up and down the beach, but if the roads can only accommodate 1000 people, then what’s the point? Ultimately, it just gets too frustrating to deal with.

But here’s where my mate comes back into play — even though he’s also lived in Asia for a while (and is used to this type of third world disorder), when I took him down to Kuta, he loved it. He loved the mess, the mayhem, the chaos.

Sure, it’s a mess now, but even though the concept of ‘logic’ is a rare commodity on Bali, it will eventually prevail — whether due to developers, politicians, or the tourist industry. They will build bigger streets, and power lines that actually work, and buildings that don’t collapse every 5 years.

Indeed, just yesterday — only one (1) day after my mate left — I noticed something:

They just completed a monstrously huge mall complex right on the beach in Legion. It sticks out like a sore thumb, simply because it’s well built, has underground parking, and would fit in at any major beach town in New South Wales, Queensland, or California. I also noticed another large shopping center being built where some older shops had just been demolished in Seminyak.

My friend was right. Sure, Southern Bali is a mess — but it’s got character. There is no other place I’ve been to — in Asia or elsewhere — that is quite like it. Yes, I complain now, and I mourn the loss of Bali’s innocent recent past. But I sense that will be nothing compared to what’s coming.

I’ve no doubt that, within only several more years, Bali will turn into every other tourist beach town in the West. And while the traffic may ease, and the electricity may work, and the fresh water may flow — something will be lost in the transition.

Because of that, I thank my friend for lending me his perspective. Probably for the first time since I moved here last October, I’m glad I’m living in Bali now. Just as I’m jealous of the blokes who rave about how pristine the island was back 20 years ago, I’m sure others will be jealous of my stories of Kuta 20 years from now, when I can tell them of the chaos — back when it wasn’t just another beach town.

I know, I’ve been slacking off with the blog lately. But between looking for work, and friends visiting me here on the island, and the surgery and various doctor visits, I haven’t had either the time or the inclination to write. Nor have I really done anything worth writing about lately — so, unless you freaks are just SO bored you want to read ‘ate, slept, walked on beach, changed bandage, slept, ate’, rest assured, you haven’t missed much.

But now that I’m back on my feet (and my surfboard), I’m starting to feel a bit more like myself. Which, in turn, means that I feel like bitching — in written form — again.

First off, in response to what I heard were less than satisfactory reviews to my posts concerning my trip to Hong Kong several months ago, I will say only this to anyone who felt that way: … how to put this politely? umm … fuck you?

I’ve never made any secrets about the fact that, in addition to documenting my travels over the past few years for both my own posterity and for my friends and family to keep track of my whereabouts, this blog is also an outlet for me to bitch and moan. When I do it about celebrities and politicians, I get all kinds of fan mail. But when I do it about friends and family, I get grief. But it’s just a freaking blog, people — let’s keep things in fucking perspective.

Let me say this again another way — I don’t know Fergie. She may be a lovely person for all I know. But that will never prevent me from comparing her to Leatherface from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Simply because it’s out there.

Similarly, any one of you people reading who has ever been married, has ever had siblings, or has ever had parents (… wait for it) — you can all attest that you have, at some point or another, gotten irritated at them, wanted to yell at them, or simply wished to slap the living shit out of them. Yet, just because I may get irritated with my friends and family at any certain point in time does not take away from the fact that I love them.

And if you think you know what exactly I’m talking about in my posts, you’re wrong. You’ve got no fucking clue. You may think you do. Indeed, I TRY to get my readers to think a certain way, because it makes for a better read — often times in direct contradiction to my actual thought processes. But you’ve no idea what I’m actually thinking. Especially those of you who’ve never even met me in person.

So, if you want to read this dribble, so be it — feel free to. But you’re the one who clicked onto this website. You should know just what to expect by doing so.

Last week marked the [REDACTED] year anniversary of when I [REDACTED] and left the States to instead begin my inexorable journey down the long road back to the middle. To commemorate the occasion, I purchased an 8 foot Mini-Malibu longboard to replace the one I left in The Philippines last year.

I’ve got a fairly rounded out quiver of surfboards at this stage — appropriate for most types of surf I can get out here in Indo, and indeed, around the world.

True, I still need a nice longer gun for some of the bigger, hollower Indo waves. But the way I see it, I can still barely perform adequately on the boards I’ve got. So let’s not kid ourselves — sure, my skill level has increased dramatically from when I first left my job, and I’m still best riding a longboard, but I’m never going pro on ANY length board. EV-ER.

That being said, I took the new longboard out for a spin today and realized/remembered that I essentially just started surfing last year or so. Before then, I was riding longboards almost exclusively. And while there are a whole slew of skills associated with longboarding, it is in no way, shape or form the same as riding a regular surfboard.

I honestly thought I’d enjoy going back to the longboard again, but to be honest — I found it a bit boring now that I’ve experienced the thrills of riding big hollow tubes, and actually WORKING the wave the way you can only on a shorter board.

My biggest problem in the water is still my ongoing frustration with myself more than anyone else in the water. With all my time in the water, I feel like I should be a far better surfer at this stage in the game. But like I just said — I”ve essentially only just started surfing about 1-2 years ago. I hope I can bring some of that realization with me when I go back out on one of my shorter boards and do a snap off the lip, or get another amazing barrel ride — with that huge ‘whooshing’ sound of the wave closing in behind and atop me.

It’s all good, mate. Semua bagus, dan saya senang sekali.

So, as expected, I’ve kinda settled back nicely into my Bali routine of coffee, surfing, hallucinogens, catching up on movies and TV, and doing yoga. One small hitch, tho.

Seems I didn’t scrub out a reef scratch I got out on the islands last month, and I went to the Doctor yesterday to take care of an infected abscess on my right calf. It should be good after a week of antibiotics — no worries for now, we’ll see how it unfolds.

One of the things I’ve just seen/heard since getting back here is Lilly Allen’s newest album ‘It’s Not Me, It’s You’, which came out back on February 9th (I live in Indonesia, it takes time for this shit to get to us, okay?). Anyway, I heard the first release, ‘The Fear’ last nite on Jimmy Kimmel. I swear this chick can do no wrong — there’s a great mix of 80′s synth-pop, current electronica production, and awesome tongue-in-cheek lyrics (“I am a weapon of massive consumption …”). Jeez, I so wanna marry this chick.

After a month in Timur Leste (East Timur) and Nusa Tenggara, Indonesia, I’m back in Bali again. I’ll probably be here a month or so, but I’ve got friends visiting from the States, Australia, and Asia for the next couple months, so I may be traveling a bit too.

I’ll keep you guys up to speed, such as it is.

P.S. BTW, no more posts about surf spots — EVER!! And I’m making all prior posts private. I met a bunch of Euro’s who found out about my spots by reading this blog. Talk about shooting yerself in the foot, mate.

With an area of just over 5,600 square kilometers (just over 2,170 square miles), the island of Bali is fairly large — nearly 10 times as large as Manhattan. And three decades ago, the Balinese economy was largely agriculture-based.

But now, tourism is the largest single industry. And tourist season is in full swing.

So, in addition to the 3.1 million or so natives, the 1 million or so other domestic workers (from Java and other islands), there are about 2 gazillion tourists roaming the streets, clogging the roadways, and otherwise kooking up the surf. And while it’s good for the locals (they need the tourism money) and it’s nice to see the new faces (sorta), it’s also still getting just a bit much for me.

After one of my good friends broke her leg in 2 places this week when she got hit by some kook on a motorbike, and after I went surfing out at Uluwatu’s a couple days ago with about 100 (no joke) of my closest ‘friends and family’, I remembered my initial plan when first moving to Bali — I wanted to use this island ONLY as a supply point and a ‘stepping stone’ to those other spots in Indonesia I TRULY love.

So I’m going someplace a bit calmer for a while.

First, I’m heading to Dili (East Timur) for a visa run, then I’m going back to Pulau Rote — about 1200 square kilometers, with an estimated total population of 100,000.

The village where I’m going (pictured above), there’s no internet, no running water, and the electricity is turned on for about 6-8 hours per day. The tourist population is limited to other silly foreigners looking for surf and quiet. And there’s not much to do besides surfing, sleeping, and the occasional jalan-jalan to the next village.

Hold all my calls, I’m gonna be off the grid for a while.

Continuing with the trend towards turning this blog into little more than a soundtrack to my daily life in the islands (and pilfering the best of the songs posted on KEXP’s Song Of The Day), here’s the latest tune I can’t stop listening to — it makes for great driving music, great surfing music and, right now, great just-about-everything-else music.

It’s pretty brand new-ish, Gui Boratto‘s “No Turning Back”, from the 2009 album Take My Breath Away. It’s been a while since I’ve heard something new from the electronic music front — it’s good to know there are still some people producing great new electronic music.

Today epitomizes one of the many ways Asia is so different to the States.

Today — or rather, this evening — the electricity in the entire towns of Legion and Seminyak — two of the biggest tourist and/or expat locales here on Bali — lost electricity for most of the afternoon and evening. Indeed, it is now about 8:30 at night, I’m at at a coffee shop working off a generator, and the electricity is still not on back in my house.

Chances are, nobody in a position of power (no pun intended) has even been alerted yet to the fact the electricity is, in fact, not working. Granted, the electricity goes out here on a fairly regular basis, but only for 15-20 minutes at a time — most likely due to overloads in the power grid. But the last time something like this happened for an extended period of time (a power pole went down on my street), it took most of 1.5 days for anyone to even START working on repairing the problem (and another 2 days for the power to eventually return — by which time, I was already gone to Bangkok).

Yes, California is also now prone to ‘revolving power outages’. But the outpouring of righteous indignation and immediate demands for assistance I’ve witness there whenever THAT happens is absolutely ridiculous — even by California standards.

In contrast, here in Bali, nobody even seems to notice. Or care all that much … besides us Westerners. To wit, while the local family from whom I rent my villa took the outage as a call to make it an early evening, I simply had to get to a coffee shop and the internet, lest I be bored to death by the presence of candles and silence.

Sure, I like to play Asian, and I may raise my voice in defiance every once in a while, but as soon as the electricity goes down, my true colours come out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to my iced late and the latest episode of The Daily Show — who knows if I’ll have my HBO back on when I get back home.

Life here in Indonesia during the dry season can get pretty redundant. As I’ve mentioned previously, while it does seem (and, for the most part, IS) the idyllic situation to be based in a tropical paradise and the surf capital of the world, the concept sometimes loses its appeal even after only several weeks of nothing more than ‘surf, yoga, sleep, read, rinse and repeat’.

I’ve not reached that point … yet. But I have reached the point where I’ve taken to driving anywhere from 1-2 hours each morning to the more preeminent surf spots on the island. Yes, because now, when the season starts up, there are very few other places in the entire world that can match the perfection of these surf spots (including “Impossibles”, pictured above and where I’ve been going out for the past few days when the latest swell hit). But also because it’s simply SOMETHING TO DO besides read or watch TV.

Yes, my plan is to hunker down in Indonesia for the summer (i.e., until October) in order to save a few bucks. And yes, I’ve had some really fantastic surf sessions in the past week or so. Yet, despite all that, if I don’t get off this island in the next couple weeks for at least a few days, there’s a distinct possibility that I’ll take up skeet shooting or veterinary school just to liven things up a bit.

Crap, I think I really need to get a job again. Sigh.

So surf season here in Bali is lurching forward, one minor swell at a time. The winds have changed, the rains have stopped, the surf is picking up, and the entire island seems to be buzzing with a renewed energy.

Yet something else seems amiss.

Oh yeah, the start of surf season here in Bali also hearkens the onset of the annual Australian migration.

The rainy season here generally coincides with the Australian summer. So all of the Aussies are back home, drinking shitty beer, eating copious amounts of beef, feeling up livestock, and doing whatever the fuck else those people do on their own time.

But now that winter’s coming there, they’re coming here.

It’s not bad, really. It’s just a bit disconcerting to see so many of the same, nondescript, vapid, blond haired, blue eyed, Bintang shirt wearing surf-drones descending onto the island like swarms of locust.

I’ve not been here long enough to complain in paradise (altho I will … cuz that’s just what I do), but it really is a mixed blessing. It’s great to be rid of the rain and gloom and trash. And it’s awesome that we’re having consistently good surf again. And yes, it’s even really nice to have new blood in the mix again.

But Aussies? Do they all have to be Aussies?

Really? Sigh. Oh well, I suppose one’s gotta take the good with the bad.

Well then, we’d better amp up production of shitty beer, silly t-shirts, and ‘availible’ livestock — cuz they’re all gonna go fast!

P.S. This is the maid speaking.

So I’m back home in Bali. And the surf season is just starting to get into gear. A minor swell came in yesterday afternoon, and I’ve been out in the water surfing — about 3.5 hours yesterday and another 2.5 hours again this morning.

My shoulders ache, my ribs are sore, and I remember why I moved to Bali. I saw a friend of mine yesterday evening visiting from Thailand and she said I looked happier than she’s ever seen me (we’ve only ever hung out in Bangkok).

I may not be the best surfer in the world. And I may be a dick sometimes in the water (and out) when I don’t surf as well as I’d like to. But good lord do I feel like a different person walking out of the surf from the one I am when I first walk in.

I feel liberated. And pleasantly exhausted. And just plain happy.

I got home last night, turned on the tube, and the first thing on was the following video — Bjork’s ‘Big Time Sensuality.’

I haven’t seen the video or heard the some in years, but it was absolutely great timing. The song is infectiously upbeat and perfectly matched my state of mind at that moment. I sat, and listened, and just was. Man, it’s the little moments like those I hold on to when the bad shit happens.

Yes, Bjork hovers in the netherworld between eccentric and crazy (admittedly, leaning more towards the crazy), but she produces some great music. Take a listen while I head back out for another surf.

So I kinda screwed up again. Not big, but enough to make me wanna kick myself again.

Y’see, I had planned on going straight from Australia to visit one of my best friends from Miami now living in Hong Kong, but since I was traveling with a surfboard and only beach clothes, I decided to head back to Bali for a few days first.

I had the chance to buy a 7 day Indonesian visa for only US$10. But instead, I wasn’t sure how long I was staying, so I laid down the US$25 for a full 30 day visa. Mistake number one.

I also had the chance to save money by purchasing the tickets to Hong Kong last week. But instead, I bought them today, only 3 days before I leave, thus costing me about another extra US$90.

From what I’ve heard about Hong Kong, I’m sure that’ll be a drop in the bucket in terms of what I’, gonna have to spend while I’m there. But at this point — with no job prospects and income sources being depleted at a staggering rate — I’ve gotta start watching my finances a bit more carefully.

So that’s it. From today onward, no more hookers, heroin, or hash for me. I’m on the wagon, folks.